Dean's Journal
by That Kid With the Long Coat
Summary: Sam forces Dean to write in a journal to help him understand and let out his emotions. Eventually, a certain angel gets a hold of it. Includes angel tears and Emo!Dean.


Basically a story I came up with at two in the morning and wrote in ten minutes non stop. So if there are spelling errors or anything, I apoligize. Really, I'm sorry if this sucks and was a waste of your time...

Anyways, I don't own Supernatural, sadly.

Rated for language. No Destiel in this one, sorries. It does hint, though.

Spoilers include a tiny bit of the result of the sixth season. Nothing from the seventh since it's still August and the new season isn't out until September 23 -_-;;

Includes Human!Cas, Emo!Dean, Bobby, Damaged!Sam, and some fluff/stuff that probably will never happen. Sorry about this, guys, seriously ^_^

Well, enjoy and review please! :DD

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><p><em><span>June 2, 2011<span>_

_Sam gave me a journal today. He told me, "Since it's physically impossible for you to talk about your emotions, I thought it would be easier for you to write them down." Then he gave me that sympathetic puppy look and walked away. I was slightly pissed, but maybe he's onto something... I'll try using this stupid thing for a few days before I burn it. Because I am SOO not turning into some teenage girl that writes in her diary every night about her problems and feelings. I refuse to turn into a chick. REFUSE!_

_June 5, 2011_

_It's been three days since I last used this piece of shit. Sammy keeps giving me these looks as if he's scared of me or something... Then again, since Cas became frickin' God and bailed on us, I've yelled at Bobby, bitch-slapped Sam, punched a dent in the Impala, broke a window, threw my cell phone against a wall (shattering it into tiny pieces), tipped over the fridge, (accidently) burned my hand playing with the lighter, yelled at Cas (via sky), broke my hand (punching three more dents in my car one after another, after another...), got a nasty-ass bruise on my good hand (punching the panic room door), and snapped if anyone says anything about said angel or my temper, or feelings or BLAH! I've also been drinking non-stop._

_Bobby keeps telling me I can't keep holding things in because then I take everything out on him or Sam, or the Impala... or anything around me that's able to be punched, tipped over, kicked, or yelled at. He says I should try to talk about why I'm feeling all this rage and anger before I hurt someone (mainly Sam, since he's still kinda unstable since the whole Cas-knocking -down-the-damn-wall-in-his-damn-mind thing...)._

_The thing is though, I don't KNOW why I'm acting like this, and if I tell him/Sam that, I'll just sound like a stupid douchbag who's doing this just because I can. But I'm not! I'm not angry... I'm just..._

_I don't even know..._

_June 10, 2011_

_I'm starting to scare myself..._

_Sam burst into tears today out of the blue and I... I just blew up. Started telling him he's a pussy and he should be able to get over Hell. I went there and blocked it out, so why can't he? Then I screamed I've been going through Hell since Cas brought me back, spit at him, and ran out, slamming the door and running as fast as I could. Bobby stayed behind to comfort a very broken-down Sammy, then left to find me._

_...He found me in a fetal position in a muddy, bloody mess. I had clawed my wrists to shreds, sobbing, and collapsed onto the ground._

_I just don't know what to do anymore..._

_Bobby brought me back to the house and bandaged me up, giving me that stern glare that didn't manage to hide the worry in his eyes. Then he hugged me, told me "never to do something so stupid like that again, ya idjut," and made me apologize to Sammy. The kid didn't say anything, just nodded and turned away._

_I really hurt him bad... and I deserve whatever he throws at me..._

_This is ALL Cas' fault._

_June 11, 2011_

_I've just been sitting in the corner all morning, staring at a anger management book I picked up while I went out to get Sammy a stuffed animal and one of his froofy coffees._

_He gulped down the caffeine and stared at the fluffy dog I held out to him._

_"Dude, I'm not three," he muttered, though he couldn't resist the cuteness of it. He grabbed it and retreated to his room, hugging the dog to his chest tightly. It looked like a German Shepard-Wolf mix with bright blue eyes. Truthfully it reminded me of Cas..._

_I haven't been drinking as much (mainly because Bobby locks the liquor somewhere I can't get to and I'm not that motivated to find it). But Cas has been on my mind a lot. Don't know why I would be thinking about that douche, but I'm starting to think maybe that's what's been getting my boxers in a bunch..._

_Too tired to do more gay-ass soul searching today. Gonna TRY to sleep, even though I know I won't be able to._

_My wrists still burn, but it's caused me to make a promise to myself (and strangely the new "god" Cas) that I'll NEVER do anything like that again._

_Never..._

_June 13, 2011_

_I brought up Cas to Bobby and Sam today. Bobby just swore and ranted about the sonofabitch abandoning us, but his eyes looked like what I assumed they would be if me or Sam did something like that. Cas was part of the family, and just about as close to him as we are. I feel bad for the geezer..._

_Sam on the other hand turned away and squeezed out a tear. Then we had a sissy-ass conversation..._

_"I miss him, Dean..."_

_I groaned and gave him what he calls my "bitch-face."_

_"Why?"_

_Sammy slowly looked over at me, all dewey-eyed. I almost frickin' ran over and hugged him just to get rid of that heart-wrenching face. But I didn't. I wanted to know how he could miss that dickhead._

_"Because, Dean," he said, shaking his head, "he's family. And family is all we have. I mean, all we got in the world is us, Bobby, and him."_

_"Dude, he DISOWNED us. He's not family anymore! He betrayed us and completely went against us the whole damn time! He lied and lied, and he lied GOOD! I mean before you could tell when he was lieing because his conscious was worse than yours, but then he got GOOD and went against all of us! And he trusted CROWLEY to help him instead of us! I mean, we would have done ANYTHING to help him if he had told us what was going on, he didn't have to turn to some damn hell-bastard! But he did, because he was never with or for us! All angels are the same-they're backstabbing, lieing, evil little bastards who can't and won't understand what's right and wrong and will ALWAYS want to betray everyone and destroy the planet because they 'have to' and it's their 'destiny!' Well I'm sick of it, dammit!" I choked out that last bit, to my dismay, and turned away before Sam could see me cry._

_But he simply walked away._

_I hope this never comes up again... I couldn't take it..._

_June 15, 2011_

_Of course that bastard brought it up again. It could have been worse, though, I will admit that._

_All he said was, "You love him, don't you? And he cut you deep when he went darkside and wouldn't turn back... But you gotta accept it and get over it, or it'll kill you, Dean. It will."_

_And that was it. End of conversation. Done. Nada. _

_But I haven't been able to get that out of my head all day... All I can think of is that damn "angel in the dirty trench coat who's in love with" me, as Balthazar put it. Speaking of which, we haven't heard from him either. Wonder where he went off to..._

_June 23, 2011_

_Been thinking about Castiel more. He's tied into making me feel like shit. But, surprisingly, I don't wanna throttle my angel anymore. I mean I am UNGODLY pissed about what he did and how he hurt me, what he's doing to me now... I can't handle anymore of this... It's all bubbling up to the surface now, and it's getting harder to control everything around Bobby and Sam. I've been hiding away more, thinking about what I'll do to that asshat if I ever see him again- _

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><p>Castiel threw the journal away from him, frustrated and as close to tears as an angel could get. That was it. He had gone too far, and it was too late to turn back now. Dean would never accept him back, and it didn't matter if Sam or Bobby did. They were a big part of his life, sure, but not as important as his charge.<p>

He had made a stupid mistake, and there was no turning back. He could feel everything now, painfully real as his grace slowly faded away by the minute. He had no idea that that last stab Sam gave him with the archangel's blade would come back to haunt him all these months later after the Purgatory souls had dwindled and disappeared. He had no one to help him now. He was on his own. As the humans put it he had "made his bed" and now he had to "lie down in it."

He felt the last of his grace disappear before he collapsed to his knees, fully human and vulnerable. Emotions bombarded him at once, causing him to choke on air.

The ex-angel felt rather silly, kneeling there on the ground, with his face contorted and his emotions available for the whole world to see. But he couldn't help it. He recalled a quote he had once read online over Sam's shoulder.

"People don't cry because they are weak. They cry because they have been strong for too long."

But Castiel didn't want to cry. It didn't matter how strong he had been over the millenia, he had been weak for the past year and he felt he was being equally weak now. He felt like a child who wanted his mother, but instead of a maternal figure he wanted his Dean. His chest ached for the hunter he had raised from the dead and watched over for three years. It was a very near physical want and DAMMIT he wanted his Dean NOW. He wanted to see the green in those hazel eyes, and smell that musk and breathe in his old jacket. He wanted to feel the hunter's hand clap his shoulder, wanted to hear comforting words that it was going to be alright, wanted to see that smile and know that everything was forgiven...

Castiel's shoulders shook as he couldn't hold it in any longer. The ex-angel sucked in air and bit his lip. It felt like his world was collapsing around him, and he didn't find the feeling pleasant in the least.

Silent footsteps approached him warily as he tried to choke back a particularly powerful sob.

Green/hazel eyes widened as he stared at the dirty, sobbing, shell of a man in a trench coat kneeling on the ground. Initially, he was shocked. _Angels can't cry... _was his first coherant thought.

The hunter stood there unmoving until the angel recovered from his breakdown and turned to get up. Their eyes made contact and fresh tears ran down Castiel's cheeks. He trembled and bit his lip until it bled.

"De-" he managed to choke out before he had to take a shuddering breath.

"Cas," the Winchester breathed, before rushing over.

The man prepared for the beating of his life and tensed. But... instead of fists, gentle hands cupped his face and wiped away his flowing tears.

"Dammit Cas, don't you EVER do that again, you hear me?" Dean whispered intensely, white teath bared, tears forming in his own eyes.

The blue-eyed man nodded once before Dean wrapped his arms around his shoulders and buried his face in his neck. "You can't even believe the Hell I went through without you..." he mumbled.

Cas coughed out a chuckle as he inhaled sharply. "I could tell you the same thing, Dean." He choked a little on the last bit and tried to bury his own face in Dean's cheek.

The hunter chuckled and, still holding him tightly, tried to lighten the mood, as he always does.

"Well, it's about time you cried, Man. I've been waiting for it for**ever**!"

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and and broke down all over again, all the while Dean held him close. They both payed no attention to the falling snow, or the wind turning the pages of a certain book that had been abandoned by a certain former-angel to the entry written the day before.

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><p><em><span>December 24, 2011<span>_

_Dammit, Cas, it's gonna be Christmas and I can't get over the fact that I haven't seen you in over six months. I wanna know where the Hell you are and what you're doing. Even what you're feeling if you can feel anything at all. I know you didn't when you first went all psycho-maniac, but maybe things have changed. Maybe you can see what I'm writing or you somehow know what it is. If you can Cas, or God, or whoever is in charge of this crap, I want you to do something for me. I know I don't deserve it, but still._

_I wanna see my angel again. But I want to see him tomorrow on Christmas, and I want to see him completely changed. I don't want to see Castiel my Lord and Savior, I want to see Castiel my humble angel, whose loyal to a fault and loves me and knows I love him back. But..._

_I want to see him cry, God. Okay? It's shallow and selfish, but if I see Castiel, the angel/god/whatever cry, I'll know this is the real thing. It's all I want for Christmas. Please?_

_I want to know angels can be different. That they can feel emotion and that they can change and love and feel. And that they aren't all dicks. I want to know that my Cas is genuine and truly different from his brothers._

_Love you, Cas... I hope to see you ASAP. I'll bring some Kleenax, cuz there's gonna be a flood coming out of your eyes. Hope it doesn't freeze either, because it looks like snow-_

And it cut off, abandoned as Dean fell asleep in his car with images of a blue-eyed, smiling angel in his dreams...


End file.
